TruLove
by VictoriaB151
Summary: When Isabelle finds herself alone in the world she turns towards her only relative… to bad he's Bill, a Vamp from the Civil War. When serious vamp murders in BT start to stir up trouble  and she meets the sexy, snarky, intriguing Eric  problems arise.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, so ummm, HI! Thanks for clicking on this fic! This is my first story to post on here… I would like to say thank you to VeronicaT175 for being my beta! YAY! She is awesome, if you're in to Vampire Academy check out her fic **_**What You Value Most**_** (which is actually quite amazing! – you will notice that her author's note often mentions me as the Editor! Yeah!)**_**. Okay! Read on awesome people, read on.**

_**Anyways so I guess I would just like to say I do not own any of the following characters. Except the ones I create…whom you will meet in just a second! They all belong to the hit HBO series, True Blood. I just add…my…creative touch! Anyways here it goes…**_

"_Fuck!"_ I shouted. Normally, I'm a good driver, but the thoughts pressing urgently in my head had kept me from paying much attention to highway 79. Much to my detriment I had almost become a hood ornament on the windshield of an oncoming Mac Truck. I swerved myself quickly back on track, just scarcely avoiding a tragic demise. To have lived all of those years of torment, surviving the turmoil my life had brought on, only to be brought down by my own dumb-ass driving. That would have been absolutely pathetic.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, before letting my mind wander again, this time making sure to pay attention to where I was going.

What will he say? I wondered. In fact, what would I say?

"_Hi there, I'm your relative. My eternally-high mother kicked me out and you're the only family I have. Want to give me a place to stay and a bite to eat?" _

That probably would not have been the best strategy. Especially since it would put bite, eat, and me in the same sentence.

I couldn't decide if I should even go. What if he attempted to... no, I decided not to think about that. I was desperate. I didn't know where else I could go. I _didn't have_ anywhere else to go. I turned my sleek cobalt blue Yamaha Bike onto exit 4. The city was Bon Temps, Louisiana; Hick Town… _Joy_.

Like I said, No. Other. Choice.

My bike growled under me, purring like a ravenous Jaguar. Fierce and Dangerous - much like my own personality. I slowed the bike's speed, and turned onto one of those back country roads; no lights, no sounds, just the hum of my motorcycle and my own thoughts, a deadly combination.

The bouncing of gravel under my bike brought a small amount of liberation to my insane and completely irritating contemplations, it gave me something else to focus on, something to help do away with the unsettling fear I was feeling.

Thinking sucks. It's much easier to go through life without. I pulled over to the side of the road, and pulled out the crumpled piece of printer paper, at this point it had so much wear-and-tear it looked like an ancient treasure map. I re-read the address (which was pointless since I had already memorized it) of Mr. William T. Compton. I was close. Well, more than close, I was about a mile away.

"Time to decide," I said to myself, leaning back on my bike and brushing my tangled, windblown hair back with my fingers, "to go or not to go?" and I smirked at my own melodramatic tone. I swallowed to growing lump in my throat and it proceeded to land…in the pit of my stomach. It was my last chance, and my decision was made. I had to try.

I threw back the aluminum kickstand and put on the throttle, listening as gravel spewed out like hail behind the racing tires as I made my way into the cemetery. How cliché; a vampire living next to a bunch of dead people.

The wind whipped through my hair, casting it in messy tendrils through the air, while also unpleasantly stinging my face and eyes. I glanced at the moon through the trees. I envied that damn thing. It's life was so constant, it came up, stayed for a few hours, and then left, only to do it again the next night, looking down at us; miniscule, insignificant beings.

I barely had time to catch my breath before pulling my bike into the driveway. I ran what I was going to stay once again through my head. No slip ups, this wasn't a dream it was a real thing. I inhaled and exhaled, then dismounted my bike. I felt like I might lose my lunch, what a first impression that would be.

I walked up the path, the dirt crunching under my combat boots. I assessed the building looming upon me. A rickety old Victorian-style home, featuring old windows, and a coat of white paint, starkly contrasting the midnight black roof, its panels of woods running down its sides like an old-washboard. It almost looked haunted, or abandoned – another cliché. I liked it. I crept up the stairs and inhaled a deep breath, there was no turning back. I knocked on the door.

I waited for about ten seconds before a man opened the door. I looked into his eyes, expecting to find a cold-hearted bloodsucker. Instead I found familiar dark chocolate eyes gazing into mine. I saw a tired yet content soul in those eyes. My breath was taken away by the amount of things I knew this man had gone through, just from the demons lurking in the deep caverns of his eyes. We stood there for a moment taking each other in. His shirt buttons were messily undone at the top and his hair a slight mess, as though someone had been running their hands through it in passion.

He seemed to be completely frozen, as if he was seeing a ghost. He whispered one word, one name, the exact one that I knew he would.

"Sarah?"


	2. Chapter 2

_**Don't own any of these characters, yada yada yada, blah blah blah. Just read the chapter.**_

"Bill?" said a high pitched voice filled with stereotypical Southern drawl from somewhere in the house behind him, "Oh my! Who's this?" said the woman, stepping up to the doorway. She was petite and blonde, and, for some reason, I found her increasingly irritating.

Her little white dress was also slightly askew… as though I had caught the two at the beginning of a romantic interlude.

"I would like to know that as well" William said, brown eyes questioning my blue.

"Well, that's a complicated answer. There are two different ones really…" I muttered, eyes on the ground as if studying my boots. "My name is Isabelle Compton, and I'm your great, great," I had to look up and count for a moment, "_great_ granddaughter…" I looked him in the eyes, and instead of annoyance like I had expected I saw his eyebrows arch in confusion for a moment before his face transformed into a warm, loving smile. I was going to like this guy, I just knew it.

After a short moment of silence the blonde spoke up once more, "I didn't know Bill had any relatives!" that dumb gap tooth smile she wore on her face did not help me feel welcome, no, it just added to how stupid she looked. Wow, I thought sarcastically, she is like Einstein, except blonde…and dumb.

"I heard that!" she said snottily. My gaze snapped to hers. She pursed her lips and cocked her head like she owned the place, looking me up in down with those flat brown eyes, "Your thoughts, I can hear them."

_What the hell_. What am I getting myself into?

"Come on in," the man said, ignoring the ugly blond girl, "It seems we should become aquatinted."

He stepped aside gesturing for me to enter, and I gratefully obliged. I stood in the entry way for a moment and took it all in. A blanket laid out by the fire, candles place strategically around it, a glass of wine sitting next to a glass of what appeared to be TruBlood. Either they were going to fuck or…well… there was no or… they were _definitely _going to fuck. I looked at the mind reader and tried to suppresses a noise of disgust or a sarcastic laugh, for her face reddened.

"If this is a bad time, I could always come later…" I said to the tall, dark figure whom is apparently my grandfather.

"No, no, it's perfectly alright, just allow me one moment. Sookie may I talk to you outside?"

She responded by smiling at me before turning out and walking out the door. I stood awkwardly there for a moment before going and sitting on a nearby vintage couch.

I sat there for about a minute or two before hearing the door creak open. I saw the man walk through the entrance to the room, only this time lacking his irritating female companion.

"Where's the blonde? Sookie or whatever…"

"She's going home for the night." He said, taking the seat across from me.

"Oh…" I said allowing my voice to trail off. I already felt like a burden.

There was another moment of complete, unfilled silence before he spoke again. "So…what brings you to Bon Temps…and my home?" somehow, perhaps it was just my imagination, it sounded like he was concerned.

Before I could speak he shook his head, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "No, never mind. What makes you think you are my granddaughter?"

Straight to the point… "Well, essentially, I have nowhere else to go… no other family. I didn't know what to do, so… I looked you up and came here on a whim. Anyways, how do you know I'm not just some freak barging into my home.

"You look identical to my ex-wife. Sarah."

"Oh…" I said, this was not going well.

"What do you mean you have nowhere else to go?" he asked.

I paused, I hadn't really thought this far through….I didn't really know what to say. "Well….." I said, "do you want the short or long version?"

"The entire version, if you will."

"My mom…well…she has issues…."

"What kind of issues?" He asked.

"Well, she's really into drugs, and men….or women…she's also schizophrenic…. Anyways she and I got in a big fight over something and I would say I was kicked out, not that I would have stayed even if I were allowed to…"

"What happened?" He said putting his hand over mine, his eyes full of such fatherly concern I began to tear up…

"I'm going to just tell you everything, all seventeen years' worth if that's alright with you." To which he nodded. "Well, I was born in Albany, and my dad skipped out on us when I was really young, so it was just me and my mom. I don't have a lot of memories of him, but I think when he left was when my mom started getting involved with drugs. And then it was always a new man, every night, and a new bag of… whatever she was on at that point in time. We got the police called to our house a few times, you know, domestic violence kind of stuff. One time she beat me because she thought I was stealing her Coke."

I paused, allowing him to take it all in. "So, it went on like that for a few years, until, when I was fifteen, she got involved in V, and, damn, that shit really fucked her up. All the past beatings and strange men got amped up, big time. The guys got more dangerous, and scarier, and the beatings were so much worse. She broke my leg once by pushing me down the stairs. She would use any drugs she could get a hold of, pain pills, weed almost constantly…" I paused again, this time to wipe the tears forming under my eyes. He just sat there silently, supportive, waiting until I was prepared to proceed.

"Anyhow, about a week ago she brought home this new guy, and they started getting high. He ended up trying to shove his hands down my pants… to which my response was smacking him. Hard. He actually fell down." I paused for a moment, "Anyway, he got back up and threatened to hurt me, and… I ran. And he came after me and we ended up going at it." My fingers automatically found my still visible black eyes and rubbed a little, "So I ended up in a fist fight with a two-hundred fifty pound man. And so my mom got in the middle of it and took his side, and we got in a screaming fight, and she hit me… and… I ran."

When I looked up his eyes were on me and he was silent. After a moment he leaned forward and pulled me into his arms, where I stayed, crying, into the broad shoulders of a stranger. It was such a relief to have human, well, vampire, companionship. We sat for a while, me crying and him rubbing my back gently.

After the tears had dried up I sat back into the couch with a small sigh. I swallowed, feeling the awkward tention. "So….how about the weather down here?" I said with a small weak laugh.

He gave a small chuckle and said, "Same as it's been for over 150 years," with a small smile.

"So now, you know my life's story…how about you, if you don't mind me asking?"

He looked at his wristwatch, and said "There will be time for that another time. It's getting late or rather early, allow me to escort you to your room."

"Oh!" I said in surprise, "Thanks!"

"There's not much food, so I would guess you will need to go get something to eat in the morning, but anything I do have is yours.

I abashedly looked down at my feet, "I'm actually out of money. If you don't mind me staying here awhile… just to get back on my feet."

"It will be my pleasure" he said with a kindly smile, leading me up the stairs.

"I'll get a job," I said with a yawn, "I don't want to feel like a burden."

"You aren't a burden."

I scoffed, "But still, any restaurants around town? I'm a pretty good waitress."

"I believe there is a place near here called Merlott's, Sookie could help you get a job if you wish."

"That would be wonderful," I sighed.

We stopped at a closed door at the top of the stairs, which he opened and we stepped into an old white bedroom with a neatly made bed with a quilted blanket and a few fluffy down pillows. It was cozy. It was just like what I imagined a real home would look like.

"This room is yours, as long as you need it. Although I'm sorry if it is a little dusty. It has not been inhabited since my daughter was a child." He told me, a warm smile on his face.

I set my duffle bag down on the floor and flopped down on the mattress, letting out a loud, contend sigh, before saying, "It feels wrong, your being so kind to me… and I don't even know what to call you! Grandpa just seems wrong considering you look no more than ten years older than me!"

"Bill will suffice," he said smiling and turning on the bedside lamp.

I grinned and responded with a, "Night Bill."

"Goodnight Isabelle," he said, touching my hair gently for a moment, his eyes searching my face. I saw his mouth twitch, though whether in happiness or sadness I didn't know, before he left the room, "Sweet dreams," I heard him say, turning off the light and closing the door behind him, leaving me in almost darkness.

. . .

"Hi there!" I heard a voice say, through my tired haze.

I screamed, yelling, "What the fuck!" and rolling straight off the bed.

"I'm Jessica, who are you?"

"What are you doing in here, giving me a heart attack?" I mumbled wiping the sleep from my eyes, "It's a minute till dawn. And I don't know you," I said my voice hoarse from surprise and frustrated. The thing leaning over the side of my bed was tall and skinny… and very pail, with flaming red hair and a pretty china-doll face and clover green eyes, now that I had taken a closer look.

I heard footsteps running up the stairs only seconds before Bill burst in the room, body coiled, ready to spring into action. When he saw the girl hanging off my bed he visibly relaxed. Then he started lecturing.

"Jessica, it's almost dawn! You need to be in the cellar, _not _scaring my granddaughter!" I tried to suppress a giggle at the melodramatic attempt at authority.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah whatevs," she said rolling her eyes, seemingly unfazed by him, "What's with the new plaything?"

I got back on my feet, crossing my arms over my chest and raising an eyebrow. "_Another_ girlfriend of yours?"

"No_, certainly_ not. More of a daughter of sorts." He turned to the other vampire, his voice faux-stern again, "Get in the cellar now, before you get us both _scorched_," he spat the word, placing a rough hand on her shoulder and pushing her out of the room firmly. "You and I will discuss this later." He told her, his voice frustrated.

Before exiting the room he turned to me and smiled, "Goodnight once more, young one."

For the first time, once the door was closed and the lights off again, even after this crazy night, I fell asleep without nightmares.


End file.
